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24 Years Ago
Wels
He turned on his heel and threw his hands up, extending them outward, palms forward. His eyes lit from the inside with black glamor sparks. His dark brown hair was chopped short, the few stringy bangs that framed his face were sticking from sweat. It really was just rotten luck.
Then again, it wasn’t like Wels had been blessed with much good luck lately.
“Back off!” He shouted, glamor sparking down his arms. His tightly fit gray tank-top was tucked into jeans that had seen better days.
The entire under-city had seen better days, to be fair.
“Oh come on, don’t be hasty! Just hear us out!” One of the ghast mutants who had been stalking him for the past few minutes, despite the multiple times Wels had broken into a full sprint trying to lose him, spoke with a purr in his tone. It sent a shiver down the wither mutants spine.
He had dark shadowy marks running down from his neck in fractal patterns against pale skin. They traced down his bare arms, and zig-zagged over his fingertips. When he glared at them, his eyes darkened stormily with more black glamor.
“I’m not interested!”
“You haven’t even heard the offer!”
“I don’t need to!” He let the glamor at his fingertips spark brighter, and fired several glamor bullets at their feet. The ghast mutant danced backward.
“You seem like a tough kid…and you’re obviously a gutter rat, you’ve got to be in line for some work, especially in this day and age!”
This day and age.
What a way to put it.
Anarchy.
The under-city was in the throes of Anarchy.
The labs had collapsed, and Wels had no clue what was going on in the levels above. As for him, another gutter rat of the Depths, he had been doing well enough for himself before the world decided to start crumbling around him. Working odd jobs here or there, stealing when he needed too, but he’d at least avoided getting scooped up by the wardship program or by any of the various clans and gangs that roamed this part of the city, so far down below.
Wels glared dagger at the ghast mutant. “You’d be surprised, even rats have standards…not like you’d know what those are.”
The ghast mutant scoffed, straightening up from how he’d dodged Wels warning shots. “Watch your tone, kid. I’m offering pay.”
“You don’t give that to most people.” Wels bit back.
“You little…” The ghast mutant's eyes flared up with magenta glamor, he lit the sparks in his palm, and Wels tensed. Glamor continued to spark down the fractal patterns down his skin, like touches of black ink, as if he’d been shattered like glass and then pieced back together again. His blue eyes fully glowed with black glamor as he prepared for the fight.
Then, in a blur of green, a figure dropped from the alleyway wall beside them. Wels hadn’t even realized there was an opening up there, it was so small, but apparently whoever this was had managed to squeeze.
He then dropped down directly on top of the ghast mutant, boot connecting in a solid kick with the back of his head.
White fur, green coat, he decked the ghast mutant in one hit, sending him slamming face-first into the grimy stone floor beneath them.
Wels stared at the unconscious figure for a few seconds in confusion.
Then he blinked, and turned his attention onto this new figure.
A fox hybrid. With fluffy white fox ears and a furry tail. He slid his hands into the pockets of his oversized green puffer, which had a sweep of white faux fur along the hood that matched with his white hair. He turned to face Wels. He wore a black gaiter mask and had a nasty scar over one eye, which he kept closed.
“Hiya.”
Wels swallowed tensely. “…hi.”
The fox hybrid pulled his hands from his pockets and put them up, exposing paw-pads on his palms and furry fingertips.
“I’m not about to pick a fight. I don’t feel like getting exploded today.”
Wels narrowed his eyes at him and didn’t lower his guard. He kept glamor charging through the patterns over his skin, it continued to beam in his brilliant blue eyes, black and shining.
The fox hybrid sighed. “Fair enough.” He put his hands into his pockets again.
“I’m Etho, by the way.”
“…cool. What do you want?”
“Straight to the point, huh?”
Wels glared without reply.
Etc tilted his head to one side, fluffy ears flicking. His silvery-white hair was held back by multiple crisscrossing black wire headbands.
“City kinda sucks right now, doesn’t it?”
Wels furrowed his brow. “As if it didn’t always suck?” He asked, voice oozing sarcasm.
“Well I mean yeah…but it like super sucks right now. See what I’m saying?”
“No. No I don’t. What do you want?”
Etho grumbled behind his mask a moment, then took a step forward, over the unconscious body of the ghast mutant still lying face-first on the street.
Wels jumped backward, toes of his worn-through sneakers scratching against the street. His eyes blazed with glamor.
“No closer!” He shouted.
Etho winced. “Sorry, sorry…ok, let me just lay this out for ya. I’m Etho, like I said. Me and my boyfriend…and a couple other buddies, we’re all working on a little project. I’ve been trying to recruit. Considering you obviously aren’t interested in any clan work.” Etho idly tipped his chin toward the knocked-out ghast mutant.
“I thought you might be interested. We could really use someone with your firepower.”
Wels raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. “Uh-huh. And what sort of project is this?”
Etho’s functional eye crinkled at the edge with a devious expression.
“Would you believe me if I said we’re gonna retake the labs?”
“You’re gonna do what?” Wels finally dropped his arms and let the glamor evaporate from him, the fractal patterns over his skin returning to matte black from the sparking they had been doing, like they were live wires now dead.
Etho snickered, the sound tittered from beneath his mask. “You heard me.”
“R-Retake…retake…are you hearing yourself? You and what army?”
“That’s what I’m working on. Feel like taking a stand?”
Wels slouched his shoulders, head pitching left, disbelief was rattling him.
“Yeah, no. Pass.”
“City sucks.”
“Sure does, but like I even care. I just don’t feel like dying.”
“Neither do I. Neither do any of the other gutter rats. Neither does anyone down here. So why do we keep killing each other regardless?”
Wels scoffed. “Skip the semantics. I already said no.”
“Do you wanna watch the world burn?”
Blue eyes avoided the piercing gaze of the fox hybrid, wandering up the alleyway wall beside them. Up, up, up into the light haze, half-established, so much darker now during the Anarchy with so much in disrepair.
“…I’ll be fine.”
“Sure you will be. But is that enough for you?”
Wels huffed. “Who are you to psychoanalyze, you’re a gutter rat same as me, aren’t you? Who says you aren’t in this for power, yourself? Why should I help another power-hungry megalomaniac?”
“I killed her.”
“Killed who?”
“The Director.”
“You did what!?” Wels staggered, then lurched a few steps forward, eyes darting around the alleyway. “You don’t just say stuff like that, are you insane!? Shut up! If we’re talking that level of crazy, I’m definitely out!”
“So you believe me?” Etho asked him as Wels stopped about a yard in front of him, drawing his breath rather unevenly, trying to grapple with just what sort of enigma he was talking to right now.
“W-Well I…I don’t not believe you, but like…no one is dumb enough to claim they started this mess and be lying about it!”
Wels gestured aimlessly in sweep with one arm.
Etho shrugged weakly. “…city sucks.” He repeated the sentiment again.
Wels felt an eye twitch starting up. “You. Make. No. Sense.”
“I’m the mysterious type.” Etho drew his hands from his pockets to flutter his fingers and trotted a few steps backward.
He nearly tripped over the unconscious body still lying on the ground and had to spiral his arms to catch himself, which really ruined some of his mystique, but Wels was far to befuddled by everything else to call him out on it.
“C’mon, run with us for awhile! It’ll be better than wandering around trying not to get killed.” Etho taunted him as he turned and trotted along a few steps.
Wels picked up his pace to walk after him. “Oh yeah, let me just seek danger, that’s a much better option!”
“You’re coming, aren’t you?”
“Shut up.”
“Pleasure to have you aboard!”
“I didn’t agree to anything.”
24 Years Later.
“Welllllllllllllllls…”
Wels heaved a sigh and leaned his head back against the wall as he watched his boss come staggering back into their headquarters.
Etho’s gang worked in tandem with the labs, the operating in the shadows to shine the labs light. His dark brown hair was neatly trimmed and he raked a hand back through it, the fractal patterns down his fingertips matte black since he wasn’t channeling any glamor.
“What now?”
Etho flopped back into a beat-up armchair in the corner of the room, which looked out through a one-sided glass window into the Depths. Their headquarters was near the rail cart station, set up dug directly into the wall. It was a lot better than the upscaled trash heap they’d been calling home two decades ago.
The fox hybrid counted on furry fingers. “Warden mutants are pissy about labs extension into the Deep Dark, east Depths is having trafficking sweep issues, the wardship program is nearly at max capacity again…”
“…and?” Wels prodded with a raised eyebrow, folding his arms.
“And Doc’s birthday is next week and I still don’t know what to do!” Etho erupted with a whine.
Wels heaved a sigh. He’d figured that was what was actually causing his boss so much distress, considering all the other issues were things they handled on the daily.
“Alright. Dinner reservations?”
“He hates eating out. He cooks better than any restaurants, plus we always get recognized and he has to schmooze. Then he complains for the rest of the night.”
“So do something at home?”
“…yeah…but I’m a terrible cook compared to him…”
“Who says you have to cook? Why don’t you get the kids to come home for it?”
Wels played along with the spitballing, pushing off from where he was leaning against the wall by the door to stroll over and take a seat in one of the other mismatched armchairs.
Etho’s fluffy fox tail continues to flick lazily. “The birdies are coming down this weekend, and Tango is coming then as well, but his actual birthday is a Tuesday, so I just…”
Etho carried on with his complaints, and Wels listened without bothering to interrupt him. He knew Doc would be happy with anything if it involved spending some alone time with his husband, so he knew it was going to turn out fine. It was just like Etho to overthink this sort of thing.
So Wels had gotten sucked in.
Sue him. Once he’d met the rest of the ragtag gang of teenagers plotting a revolution, he hadn’t been able to say no…perhaps the idea of having something to fight for had been attractive to him, maybe he just wanted some insurance against starving, maybe the idea of operating in a group as opposed to constantly running solo was nice…maybe some tiny part of himself had actually wanted to make the under-city suck just slightly less.
It still kind of sucked, to be fair.
But much less. Much less than before. Wels had gotten to play some part in that. So he was pretty satisfied.